


Take A Pen And Write This Down

by anaverageshipper



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Art Student Clarke, College AU, F/F, Government Student Lexa, Lexa Models For Clarke In Art Class, Princess Mechanic brotp, Raven is the Captain of the Clexa Ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:53:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7270930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaverageshipper/pseuds/anaverageshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Clarke, art is life and passion itself. She loves her art classes, and loves them even more when a cute brunette begins to show up to class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song 'Surprise Yourself' by Jack Garratt.

Clarke Griffin woke up to the feel of a pillow being slapped in her face, along with a loud yell of “GET UP!”

She groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, burrowing her face into her warm blankets. Her roommate, Raven Reyes, responded to this action by climbing onto Clarke’s body and perching on it like a bird. She bounced up and down a few times, destroying any sleepiness Clarke had left over. Still, in true Clarke Griffin fashion, she stubbornly continued to pretend that she was asleep.

“You’re going to be late to class if you don’t hurry,” Raven said from on top of her. Clarke could hear the ever-present smirk in her voice. Clarke grumbled unintelligently, then lifted her head up.

“Fine,” she whined.

Raven shot off of the bed and dived into one of Clarke’s many clothing piles on the floor. Clarke sat up and watched her roommate, who seemed to be fishing around for a particular clothing item when she gave a triumphant shout. Her arm shot up, her fist clenching a wad of blue fabric. She tossed it at Clarke, which hit her squarely in the face.

"Wear the dress," Raven demanded. "It's cute."

"Since when do you care what I wear?"

"Always," Raven retorted, "but today I'm going to do something about it."

Clarke complied with her orders and stripped her shirt off, flinging it across the room. Raven snorted.

"Dude, someday someone's going to walk in our apartment, and the first thing they'll see is you sitting there on your bed with your tits out."

Clarke laughed as she brought the dress over her head. "Probably."

She hurriedly brushed her teeth and threw her curly blond hair into a messy bun, keeping it in place with a chopstick. Raven popped her head in the bathroom door. She held up a tube of lipstick in one hand and a tube of mascara in the other. 

“Hurry,” she warned with a quirked eyebrow. 

Clarke grabbed them from her, applied the products hastily, and grabbed her bag full of supplies. She debated making herself a cup of coffee, then decided she would have to go to the café across campus after class. There wasn’t enough time before class, and as much as she hated to admit it, Raven was right. She was already going to be cutting it pretty close. 

“Bye!” she called as she slammed the door behind her.


	2. Names and Majors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A class is joining up with Clarke's for a few weeks.

Huffing, she walked into the classroom, where people were already setting up their easels. Clarke scanned the room quickly, seeing an empty seat next to her friend, Maya Vie. 

She crossed the room and sat down; all the while ignoring the knowing look Maya was giving her. 

“Late again?” Clarke could hear the smirk in Maya’s voice. 

She huffed. “When am I not.”

Maya laughed, and then cleared her throat as the professor walked to the front of the room, giving everyone a silencing look. Professor Anya gave a steely glare to a pair of boys who were still talking. They immediately became quiet. 

“Today we will be joined by a group of students from another university studying History of Art. They will be with us in our classes for the next two weeks, and I expect you will show them respect and courtesy,” Professor Anya said, shooting a stern glance in the direction of the boys who were talking earlier. 

She continued, “That being said, it’s my pleasure to introduce them to you.”

Professor Anya strode to the heavy wooden door and pulled it open. Another woman entered, followed by six or seven people. Professor Anya nodded to the woman, and she turned to address Clarke’s classroom. 

“My name is Professor Becca Promheda, and I’m the professor of the course History of Art at Polis Institute. It’s an honor to be given this opportunity to work at Ark University with Professor Anya for the next couple weeks, and I’m sure we’ll have lots to learn together as a community,” she said, smiling. Professor Promheda turned to Professor Anya, who had a grim smile on her face as they shook hands. 

Professor Anya looked at the people behind Professor Promheda, whom Clarke assumed were students from the nametags hanging around their necks. 

“Students,” she said to them, “feel free to sit anywhere in the classroom. If there aren’t any seats left open, there are chairs in the back closet.” 

The history students filed in the classroom near the back and stood patiently while one of Clarke’s fellow students fumbled to open the closet door. Quickly and quietly, they each grabbed a chair from the stack in the closet and sat down. One of Professor Promheda’s students, a girl with long brown hair, approached Professor Anya and gave her a delicate hug. Clarke was intrigued. Professor Anya didn’t seem the type to give out hugs. 

The brown-haired girl set up a chair behind Clarke and sat down quietly, Professor Promheda doing the same next to her. 

Professor Anya cleared her throat.

“Now that that’s settled, let’s move on to having our guests introduce themselves. Let’s start with names and majors,” she said, nodding at the nearest students to her, a lanky boy with shaggy hair and another with straight jet-black hair. 

They grinned nervously and elbowed each other. The lanky boy spoke first. 

“I’m Jasper Jordan, and every other week I switch between Theatre and Psychology,” he said, causing chuckles to ripple throughout the classroom. He nudged the other. 

The other boy flashed brilliantly white teeth. “My name is Monty Green, and I’m majoring in Biochemistry.”

Professor Anya nodded and waved for the girl sitting behind them to introduce herself. 

“My name’s Zoe Monroe, and I’m studying American Sign Language,” she said easily, leaning her elbows on her knees. She looked at the next person. 

“Atom Penn, Astrophysics.”

“Thea Fox, American History.”

“Sterling Briggs, majoring in English Language and Literature.”

Clarke became aware that it was the turn of the girl behind her, and was instantly curious to hear her voice. 

“I’m Lexa Woods, and I’m majoring in Political Science and Government,” she said, her voice soft but clear.

Professor Anya smiled--or grimaced, more like--at the last girl who introduced herself. 

"Good," she said, clasping her hands behind her back. "Now we can continue on with our lesson. As you can remember from last week, we discussed beginning to draw and sketch portraits. For this section, I thought it would be fitting to have people to study that can't easily get away," she grinned at her own joke, baring her teeth. A couple students gave a sympathy chuckle.

She continued. "This is why we will be having guests in our classroom for an extended period of time as we familiarize ourselves with different types of portraits and tools. Professor Promheda has been so kind as to volunteer her students for us as models, and we will be spending our time in class studying them."

"Aww, no way," the lanky boy named Jasper said, appearing to be distraught. "I thought they were modelling for us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not hard to tell that Raven knew Lexa would be there and not-so-subtly set them up. We'll see how she knew in the next chapter.


	3. Dean's the Worst

Clarke plopped down on the couch in her apartment and turned on the TV, surfing channels until an old episode of Gilmore Girls flashed across the screen. She took a swig from the apple ale resting on the coffee table. 

"You're drinking early," came Raven's voice from the kitchen. Clarke made a noncommittal grunt in response without turning around. 

Raven came around the couch and lifted Clarke's legs, sitting down on the couch and lowering her legs again. She scowled at the screen when she saw Dean Forester come into view. 

"He's the worst," Raven grumbled angrily, throwing a small pillow at the TV. "You know who he reminds me of?"

"Finn," Clarke guessed in a equally displeased tone. Finn was Raven's ex-boyfriend who had tried more than once to make a pass at Clarke while he had still been dating Raven. Once the girls had found out about each other, they dumped him together. 

She nodded. "Yep. She should've ended up with Jess."

"Or Paris."

They gave each other a solid high-five, still staring at the screen. A knock rapped on the door. 

"Come in!" Raven yelled at the door. It swung open to reveal Wells Jaha, Clarke's best friend and Raven's boyfriend, looking very worn and tired. 

He gave a wry smile and stumbled over to the couch, pecking Clarke on the top of the head and leaning over to kiss Raven. He came around and sat in between them, Raven immediately curling into his side. Clarke frowned at his exhausted state. 

"Uh, Wells? Don't bother going home tonight," she told him. 

He chuckled. "Like I don't already spend at least one night a week on your couch," he yawned, issuing a yawn from the others as well.

"We don't mind," Raven told Wells happily, cupping his cheek in her hand and kissing him again. 

Clarke groaned. "Get a room, you two."

Raven quirked an eyebrow and laughed. "Later," she assured Clarke, earning a chuckle from Wells.

He put an arm around Clarke's shoulders and squeezed her. "So, how was class? Anything interesting happen?"

Clarke's mind flashed memories of the brown-haired girl named Lexa, but shrugged. "Not really. A class from Polis is gonna combine with ours for a while, but that's it."

Wide smiles grew on the faces of Wells and Raven, and they shared a look. 

"Well, I know that I, for one, am in shock," Raven said blandly, trying to hide her smirk. 

Wells suppressed a snort and shook his head vigorously. "Oh, yeah, yeah definitely same."

Clarke eyed them suspiciously. "What?"

They sniggered. "Nothing," said Raven, who couldn't keep a smile off her face any longer. 

Clarke sighed, having endured their antics for so long it that they no longer fazed her. "What is it?"

"Are they, perhaps," Wells started speaking but was interrupted by Raven's giggling and started chuckling of his own. "Are they--Are they--stop laughing, Raven, let me finish, for God's sake--Are they models for your class, by chance?"

They collapsed into fits of laughter, holding each closely as their bodies shook.

Clark frowned. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

Wells looked at Raven, who grinned impishly at Clarke. 

"I've got a story to tell you," she said.


End file.
